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The boy stumbled as he was pulled along by the hand tight as steel around his bicep, tripping over himself to keep up with the relentless pace. The stone beneath his feet was cool, and the air in the long hallways stifling. It was too dark to see the tall ceiling this time of night, or even the top of the ancient, fading tapestries hung between each gaping doorway and window.
He’d thought they were having another session when he’d found him, but the matter at hand seemed to be . . . something different. He didn’t know what. Maybe that vague, nebulous thing . . . that event that had been hanging out there all his life, unspoken but looming. Whatever it was that he, with his small hands and his mismatched eyes, had been brought into this world for.
“Is it time already?” She was suddenly there, waiting in an open doorway as they passed. The blue-haired child perked up a little, despite himself. It was their little secret, his sister had always said, a smile just for him as she curled up beside him, told him stories about her day and the gods and those who had come before them.
And standing behind her, their mother, tired and resolute. She glanced briefly at them, then directed her attention resolutely past. She hadn’t looked him in the eyes, if she could help it, since the they’d pulled him from her screaming and seen the mark upon him.
But his sister? Dearest Arha? The girl only had eyes for him, already reaching as she stepped forward. Their father gave a disgruntled huff, but released him without protest as she drew him into her arms, pulling him close to murmur into his ear as the man stepped back to exchange a few last words with his wife. A long moment, and then she pulled back, hands resting lightly on his shoulders as she took a moment to give him one last longing look before giving him a pat and slowly pulling away.
“What did you say?” Their father’s voice was sharp, his expression cold. Only calculation gleamed in his uncovered eye.
“Just reminding him we’re counting on him.” She smiles, calm. A better liar than he ever was. He would remember those eyes, fierce in a diplomat’s body. That voice, soft and self-assured. That confidence and surety in the face of a doomed narrative.
Find happiness, my star. It is worth more than anything you can do for Khaenri’ah.
* * * * * * * * *
“Very good.” She took the rolling pin from his hands, setting it aside before gently showing him how to lift the dough without tearing or dropping it. She pulled it carefully over the already filled pie, helping him press down the edges before trimming away the excess and carving decorative vent holes in the shape of flowers, hands steady and sure. Kaeya watched silently, thinking of the blooms in his homeland, the great fields of them he used to hide in when he didn’t want to be found. They had smelled sweet, too.
“There.” Addie smiled a lot. It was unnerving. “I’ll just put that in to bake, and after dinner, we can all have a slice, hmm?”
He gave a hesitant nod, sliding down from the stool and walking around the counter to watch as she did just that. The oven gave off a blast of warm air when she pulled open its heavy door. It was always warm in here. He could never mistake this place from where he came from. Not even if he closed his eyes really tight and tried really hard. Not even for a second.
“Now,” she wiped her hands on her apron, took a preparatory breath as though to speak again, but paused, carefully still as she listened to the sound of a door slamming closed, the soft murmur of a chastising voice. “I believe that’s Master Crepus and Young Master Diluc. Would you like to go greet them?” She knelt before him, reaching to gently tuck a lock of hair behind his ear. Kaeya had gotten good at not flinching. “No need to fret, little one. I’m quite certain they’ll be happy to see you.”
He peered toward in the direction of the foyer uncertainly, then back to the maid, who made a little encouraging motion with her hands. Kaeya wasn’t sure they’d really want to see him after he’d refused to join them on their walk through town. Last time everything had been . . . it had been too loud and there had been so many people, and for a moment Kaeya had fallen behind and lost sight of them both. He knew he had to get over it, if he was to do what he’d been left here for, but it had scared him badly. It had been several minutes before they found him.
Slowly, he crept forward, opening the door to the rest of the manor part way, looking back at the woman one last time before slipping through it. He moved forward carefully, peering around a corner at the sight of the two redheads just inside the front door. A maid was taking their heavy coats to put away, and for a long moment, he remained unseen.
But then the younger looked up, carmine eyes catching sight of him and brightening instantly, all cheer and enthusiasm directed at the other boy as he immediately moved forward. Kaeya couldn’t hold back his flinch.
“Yaya!”
“H-hi Lulu.” He hadn’t gotten used to using the diminutive, and the sound of his voice, still thick with the accent of his homeland, made him grimace. It still sounded a little strange to his ears – that this cheerful, wealthy boy wanted to be treated as a friend and not a young master.
The redhead beamed, turning back to his father to grab expectantly, and a package was laughingly handed to him. “Yaya, look what we got!” Package under one arm, he grabbed the smaller boy’s hand and pulled him toward the sitting room. Kaeya let himself be dragged along without resistance, stumbling a little when the redhead came to a stop, and after a moment, obediently sitting on the sofa next to him, package placed between them. Diluc ripped it open clumsily, and, curiosity piqued, Kaeya found himself leaning closer as its contents were revealed.
Inside, wrapped lovingly in tissue paper that was quickly pulled apart, were two dolls. Plushies? Stuffed animals, both clearly meant to be birds by the wings on the sides of their round little bodies, the clawed feet and the embroidered beaks. The texture of them looked nice. Without thinking, he began to reach for one, but catching himself, hesitated, looking up at the redhead uncertainly.
“You like the red one?”
Kaeya gave a small nod, reaching to touch the soft velvet of the animal’s crown, fingers running over the fluffy tuft of its ears almost reverently.
“That’s perfect!”
He looked up to see the redhead beaming at him, showing off his missing front tooth with his enthusiastic glee.
“You take the red one, and I’ll take the blue one, and this way we’ll be together even when we’re apart.”
It was a sweet idea. He felt a great surge of pity for this naïve, sheltered child – he had no idea what the world had in store for him. This boy who thought some stray they’d picked up mere days ago could be a forever friend. Who had no idea of the foul thing they’d brought into their home, the wretched creature that would one day turn against them. And yet. And yet . . .
“Father, look, look!”
And yet, who could turn away from such warmth?
“I see it.” Master Crepus’s voice was soft, fond, and familiar. “Why don’t you boys get cleaned up for dinner?”
“Okay!” Diluc paused long enough to ensure the other boy had firm grip on his new gift, then scooped up its blue counterpart for himself, tucking it under one arm before taking a firm grip on Kaeya’s sleeve, pulling him toward the stairwell and up to their rooms. “I like it when you smile,” he added, almost hopeful, before releasing him and parting ways.
Kaeya lifted his free hand to touch his own face in wonder. Yes, he’d been smiling. That’s what that warmth was.
This place, with its gentle winds and sunny skies, wasn’t his home. These bright and happy people weren’t his family. But maybe, if he tried real hard, they could be, just for a while.
* * * * * * * * *
“Hurry up, Jean!” The boys ran ahead toward the water, blissfully ignorant of the dangers of heels and twisted ankles. Jean took her time across the grassy hill, stepping carefully in the chilly, moonlit night.
Her sister, still in flats, hung back with her, already responsible beyond her years. “Should we really be out here?” Technically the party wasn’t over yet, but it was winding down quickly, and they only had a little time before their mother ushered them home. If they wanted to come out and enjoy the view of the stars outside the city, now was the time.
“Don’t worry!” Kaeya called back, half turning and running backwards. “It’s perfectly safe!”
Jean just rolled her eyes. She was pretty sure Barbara was more worried about getting in trouble with their parents than a rogue slime or two. After all, they could handle a few slimes. Frederica Gunnhildr when she was not-angry-just-disappointed . . . well, that was a whole other thing.
“Boys, honestly.” And Jean couldn’t help but smile when her little sister giggled at the remark. But then, being a little behind just meant that by the time they caught up, the blanket had already been spread across the riverbank, one half left conspicuously open for the two girls. The boys’ heads were close together, a contrast of red against blue, whispering loudly. The redhead gave his brother a half-hearted shove, expression twisted in disgust, and the blue-haired boy fell back cackling, almost rolling off the blanket entirely. Boys indeed.
They at least toned it down a little as the girls settled in, one flopping on his back dramatically and the other settling more sedately to look up at the stars. They really were more beautiful out in the countryside, and the light interference in Mondstadt proper wasn’t even that bad. The blanket below them was soft, and big enough to fold over when they got too cold in the crisp November air. It was pleasant, and for several long minutes they all fell silent, a solemn feeling coming over them in the deep night.
The peace couldn’t last forever, though, and soon enough they heard voices calling over the hill. Jean rushed to her feet, pulling her sister after her and taking a moment to brush and smooth both of their dresses. Jean started to pull her sister along, but paused as Barbara pulled back, turning back to the two boys.
“Did you have a good birthday?” Barbara’s voice was soft, uncertain, but of nothing but genuine kindness, as ever. Kaeya looked over his shoulder to smile at her, meeting her expression with equal sincerity.
“Yeah.” He smirked, that trademark sly expression. “It was a lot of fun sending girls to dance with Diluc all night.”
“Hey!”
But Barbara giggled, and the two girls headed back up to the manor after one last round of birthday wishes and a wave good bye. For a few minutes following their retreating footsteps, it was silent but for the wind in the grass, the trickling of the not-quite-frozen-over water, and the sound of their own breathing. Then Kaeya looked over to see the expression on his brother’s face and had to snicker.
“You don’t have to pout about it.” Oh, but he did. He really did. “You’re who they really wanted to dance with, anyway.” He didn’t really need to explain why, surely? Diluc was the heir. Kaeya, on the other hand . . . the nobility on the whole considered him as little more than Master Ragnvindr’s outlander ward, at best, irregardless of how many years it had been since he’d been officially adopted into the family.
“Well, they’re idiots,” Diluc grumbled, sullen and, as always, offended on his behalf. Kaeya laughed. Like he wanted Diluc’s responsibilities, even if he cared what those uptight snobs thought of him. Still. It made his chest feel warm, every time. Not that he should let his brother know that. He’d get so damn smug about it, after all.
“I’m colllld,” Kaeya whined suddenly, pulling at his brother’s shirt and shoving his hands between cloth and skin, chortling when the redhead gave a startled yelp, slapping at him as Kaeya determinedly pressed his cold fingers into warm flesh. Not the most subtle change of subject, but an amusing one nonetheless.
“We can go inside!” Diluc bartered.
“Nooooooooooo!” Kaeya ramped up with whining tone from beyond obnoxious to outright shrill.
Finally, giving in to the inevitable – and perhaps to spare further assault to his ears – , the redhead pulled the blanket closer around them, scowling at Kaeya’s triumphant grin. “You’re always cold.”
“And you’re always warm,” Kaeya retorted, “so share.”
The redhead’s only answer was a sigh, and once again, they fell into silence, staring up at the twinkling stars. But soon their time too was out, and just as enough warmth had leeched away that they’d begun to shiver, the sound of multiple voices calling for them echoed across the vineyard. Kaeya tried to linger a minute more, but Diluc was quickly rising, pulling the blanket away wadding it up in a big ball to carry.
“Last one is a rotten egg!”
“You’re a rotten egg either way, so.”
“Hey!”
And, giggling, they ran up the hill towards warmth and home.
* * * * * * * * *
Kaeya sighed, signing off on what felt like the hundredth report that afternoon and adding it to the pile. Helping Jean with the endless paperwork that came with being Acting Grandmaster was all he was good for on days like this, but even he was reaching his limit. He shook out the cramp in his hand, sighed as he pulled another report from the still woefully large To Do pile, and glanced longingly out the nearby window – the late afternoon sun was drifting behind dark clouds as it brought the promised evening snowfall.
Gods above, he could use a drink.
Which would, unfortunately, require a trip outside of headquarters. He knew better than to keep even a single bottle in his office after Miss Noelle had found him drinking dandelion wine after hours the week prior. It had to be an anomaly, and not a pattern, if this was going to work. But damned if he didn’t wish he still had a bottle stashed away in here.
Another sigh, and he made himself focus on the form ahead of him. He was deep into the citizen requests now, and the sheer banality of it was about to put him to sleep. He couldn’t believe Jean slogged through all this constantly. Requests to help find a missing cat? Or for help understanding their quarterly taxes? Weren’t there services for this kind of thing? The adventurer’s guild handled all kinds of mundane tasks, and he knew full well that Librarian Lisa organized a monthly session to assist with financial planning for those who couldn’t afford to actually hire an accountant. So why were these requests going to the knights?
Ah, fuck it. It’s his birthday, and given the year he’d been having, no one was going to give him too hard of a time for taking off a little early for drinks. He could talk to Jeannie in the morning about implementing some kind of protocol for diverting these requests more appropriately. Assuming she didn’t insist on just taking it all on herself again.
He pushed himself to his feet with a low groan, hands clutched tight around the edge of the desk as he caught his balance. A deep breath, then he reached for his cane, a polished, finely crafted thing with a blade built into the handle, just in case. He could go without it now, sometimes, but with the weather front moving in, there was no avoiding it. Not unless he wanted to take a nice tumble down Mondstadt’s twelve thousand stairs and finally put himself out of his own misery.
He stepped forward, breathing taking on a deliberate rhythm as he made his way out of his office and headquarters itself, exhaling through the still lingering pain of his injuries. They were mostly healed, now, but the worst of it was still sensitive to the touch, and when there was a lot of moisture in the air, he ached something terrible. It wasn’t clear yet if that would ever go away.
But he could still hold a sword. He could still fight. And most days, he could still think clearly. That would have to be enough, under the circumstances. He’d just keep taking it day by day.
He stepped out past Athos and Porthos, a single look enough to make them think twice about offering to help him, despite his uneven gait and the big, wet flakes that had begun to drift down. Which was great for everyone’s health, as he just didn’t have the energy to deal with telling them off. He was sick to death of being babied already. Wasn’t it about time he was allowed on active patrols again – weather not withstanding?
The tap of too-high heels across the cobblestone were annoyingly more steady than he was as Mondstadt’s most notorious nun fell into pace beside him, the smell of her most recent cigarette wafting around her like a dark cloud. Kaeya didn’t even pause, picking his way carefully down the stairs with only his destination on his mind.
“I’m just here to make sure you don’t fall on your ass and make more work for the deaconess.”
Kaeya had never known someone who could sound so bored at literally anything. Rosaria would probably have used the exact same tone to inform him drinks were half off as to notify him she’d just caught Huffman running naked through the streets. He smirked a little at the thought. Huffman was perhaps one of the more reserved knights on the roster. Far more likely to catch fresher recruits letting their drink get too much of them.
“I don’t need your help.”
Each step was dull agony, familiar and constant. He slipped only once, and Rosie caught his arm too quickly, too easily, casually dropping the limb as he found his feet again. She’d barely looked at him through the whole process, treating the whole event with the typical standoffishness that, as it so happened, did not scuff his pride too badly.
“So it’s no problem then.” Yeah, right. “And a great excuse to go drinking early.” Well. That was on brand, at least. Gods knew the nun would do just about anything to get out of choir practice, despite having a perfectly serviceable singing voice. She did know she could leave if she hated it so much, right?
Or maybe she couldn’t. He didn’t know what deal she had struck with the grandmaster, but surely there was some other community service she could do, if she really hated being a nun.
Eventually, they made it to the bottom of the steps, but rather than peel off, the nun continued sauntering along beside him. He couldn’t complain, really. It wasn’t exactly the busiest time of day, particularly given the worsening weather, but the woman’s air of casual menace warded off those who were out and about – all the way up to Angel’s Share’s front door.
Angel’s Share. Despite being only fairly recently old enough to (legally) drink, he already had so many memories of the place. Times he’d tagged along when father was taking inventory or even tending bar that day. Sitting in the corner with his nonalcoholic cider and Lulu with his grape juice. Hiding under the counter when things got too rowdy. Father teaching them how to mix their first drinks long before they were old enough to drink them . . .
Deep breath, step inside, breathe in that familiar scent. Kaeya settled into his usual stool with an almost inaudible groan, sparing a smile for the bartender – Charles, who at his least was an old family friend, was manning the bar today. And though he knew perfectly well what day it was, he seemed content to let it pass with a simple nod of greeting – at least until he slid a drink across the bar with a small, grim smile.
“On the house.”
Kaeya lifted the drink in a brief toast before taking a long sip, savoring the first drink of the night. Crisp and cool, licorice and citrus with a nutty and slightly floral aftertaste. It had been father’s favourite mixed drink, too. Diluc hated it, of course. The man had the taste buds of an toddler. And he hadn’t been able to stomach dandelion wine in particular since that time they (Diluc) had snuck a bottle from the cellar and managed to drink the majority of it before Addie caught them. Lulu had been twelve at the time. And it had been one of the few times he’d seen father truly livid . . .
But father was gone now, and Diluc . . . after what had happened, he’d disappeared overnight. Kaeya had been too badly hurt to even notice at first, and nobody had told him until nearly two days had passed. If he were being honest, a part of him was still angry. No one even knew if he was alive, and it had been months. By now, even the knights had given up looking.
“Captaaaaain~!”
Kaeya startled from his sullen thoughts at the joyful call, attention jerking upward to where a teal clad bard half dangled over the second floor railing. The man – clearly already well on his way to inebriated – gave an enthusiastic wave, giving a giggled “oops!” as he lost grip on his near empty stein and sent it tumbling to shatter against the first level floor. Kaeya couldn’t help but grin, just a little, at Charles’ weary sigh behind him. Long resigned to the bard’s antics and the chaos that followed, the bartender gathered a broom and dustpan, pausing only to be sure the bard got up again after he half-skipped-half-tumbled down the steps to the lower floor.
He wasn’t sure where Venti had come from. He’s just shown up one day and made himself comfortable, as wandering bards were (apparently) apt to do. He’d become a good friend – or at least a good drinking buddy – this past year.
“Happy birthday!” Venti hopped up on a stool by the counter, giving a spin before settling his elbows against it, beaming as he turned his attention from the knight to the nearby nun sipping her wine. “It’s Rosie!!!”
“That’s my name,” she commented flatly, barely looking up.
“Bartender, bartender!” The bard fidgeted on the stool while he waited for the man to finish cleaning up the broken glass. “Next round’s on my tab!”
Kaeya chuckled. When was the last time Venti had paid that thing off? Sure, he was good for it eventually, but in the meantime, he’d prefer the family business not to nosedive into the red.
Still. It was nice to feel like there was something to celebrate. To have friends to laugh and joke and drink with. People who were excited to see him, who seemed to enjoy his company and would buy him a round as easy as breathing. That wasn’t nothing. That was pretty damn fine, actually.
“Cheers,” he agreed softly, lifting his drink in another toast before taking a long sip. Yeah, this was nice. He didn’t need his brother, anyway. He could make a place for himself just fine without him.
* * * * * * * * *
Kaeya stepped out of the crisp outside air into the warmer manor, running a gloved hand through his hair to dislodge the bulk of the flakes that had fallen onto him during his walk from headquarters. It had been a long day, strained equally by the constant waving off of well wishes as the burden of having to patrol with Sir Godwin, of all people. Even the foyer, which ran a good several degrees colder than most other areas of the manor, was a notable improvement to the bitter cold outside and the endless mooning of unwelcome company.
The fragrant scent of Addie’s cooking sure didn’t hurt, either. He was practically salivating already. Knowing her, she’d gone all out, it being his birthday and all, so he was already anticipating a most delicious meal.
Assuming his dear brother could stop glowering long enough to let him enjoy it. All that time he was away, all that time Kaeya had missed him, had wondered if he was even still alive somewhere out there . . . and when he’d finally came home, Kaeya had been so overjoyed to see him. But that joy had quickly soured when he’d learned how much the redhead had changed. When he’d realized sunny smiles and endless passion had been replaced with a persistent sullen attitude, by storm clouds and judgement.
Neither one of them could escape the ramifications of that night.
Kaeya ducked up to his room to clean up and change, making himself presentable for dinner. Or at least getting (partially) out of uniform into something more comfortable – fur cloak discarded, layers shed down to his white undershirt and pants, gloves and eyepatch swapped for softer variants, even his belt and vision left on his nightstand. He was home. It was his birthday, but they weren’t expecting company. No reason not be anything but comfortable.
Diluc arrived at the table the same time as him, but in his usual stuffy gear. All black again – as it had been since he’d come home. Apparently Diluc had reverted to a teenager and found his broody period – which he’d never had when he actually was a teenager, come to think of it. At least he wasn’t dying his hair or anything. Though he was definitely going to regret it if he continued to insist on wearing that heavy coat everywhere well past the new year.
His crimson gaze slid over the blue haired knight and away, and without comment (silent and broody as ever), he took his usual seat near the head of the table. The head – where father used to sit – had remained vacant the full time he was gone, and Kaeya wasn’t surprised to see the redhead avoid it.
Kaeya settled in the chair across from him, and after a minute more, Adeline came sweeping into the room, arms full and with another maid in tow – one of the gossipy ones that was already half convinced his brother was a vampire. He might have encouraged it, just a little. It was just too funny to resist.
A second trip for drinks, and after only a moment’s hesitation – and a quick exchanges of looks with the new master of the house – Addie set a place for herself. After all, the rule had always been all family present for birthday dinners, and if it hadn’t already been clear from the years of including her in family activities, Kaeya had made sure she’d known it these last two years. She was, after all, the closest thing either of them had to a mother. If she wasn’t family, then what did the word even mean?
They were having Kaeya’s favorites, of course, with him being the birthday boy and all. He’d always liked strong flavors, spicy or sweet or savory, but never bland. Tonight’s spread was no exception, and even Kaeya, who tended to eat light, could not help but fill his plate. Mint salad; marinated boar with onions, tomatoes, and greens; spice cake and spiced apples for dessert with light, airy cream. Paired with a light, dandelion wine . . . no complaints from the birthday boy, or anyone else for that matter.
Well, not about the food anyway. The moment Kaeya took a drink of his wine, sighing happily, his dear brother gave a disgusted scoff. Rich coming from a grown ass man with a glass full of grape juice. Not everyone had the taste buds of a toddling child.
“Can’t a man enjoy a glass of wine after a long day’s work?” Kaeya swirled the drink in its glass, fingers delicate against the stem, before he took another sip. “On his birthday, no less,” he added lightly. Not that dear old Lulu cared, these days.
“Are the knights so desperate – “ Oh, boy, here we go. “ – they can’t even allow a man off for his own birthday?” Kaeya might have taken it for concern, if not for the tone of it.
“Now boys,” Adeline interrupted just in time, as usual, just the right note of parental disappointment in her tone to cower them both into civility, for a few moments at least.
“Hmmph.” Diluc’s fork scraped harshly against the fine china, and Kaeya couldn’t help but wince. Honestly, how grating, how unrefined and heavy handed. How completely typical.
He took a precise bite of his own food, humming appreciatively as the spiced meat touched his tongue. It was delicious, naturally. Adeline had really outdone herself, as usual. He chewed, swallowed, gave a little smirk. “What can I say? It’s all hands on deck with fatui and masked vigilantes running all around Mondstadt.” By which he meant exactly one masked vigilante, of course. Rosa never wore masks. She just loomed menacingly from the shadows and shot to kill. Er. Stabbed. Impaled? Whatever.
“Mond wouldn’t need masked vigilantes – ” The redhead stabbed his fork viciously into a piece of meat, the tines screeching against the china once more “ – if the knights weren’t so godsdamn incompetent that – “
“Oh, that’s rich coming from someone who disappeared for two years and accomplished nothing – “
“Boys.” Adeline raised her voice so rarely that they both fell silent immediately, glowering at each other across the time. “We will not have this uncivilized behavior at the dinner table. I know your father taught you both better than this.”
And wasn’t that a low blow?
A disgruntled hum, then the redhead rose, setting his napkin roughly next to his unfinished plate. “Thank you, Adeline. Dinner was delicious as always.”
“Master Diluc . . . “
But the man was clearly unwilling to continue – perhaps because of the occasion rather than in spite of it – as he ducked from the room without further comment. Kaeya turned his attention to his plate and the next bite of food, resolutely avoiding the head maid’s disapproving stare.
“Must you always antagonize your brother?”
Kaeya took an appreciative drink of his wine, offering that familiar, easy smile. “I’m fairly sure my very existence antagonizes that man.”
“Master Kaeya.”
“He’s right about one thing. The food is delicious.”
The woman just sighed, probably wondering what she was going to do with her idiot boys. There was nothing she could do. Sometimes, things were just broken.
* * * * * * * * *
Kaeya’s brush moved across the paper, adding blotches of spreading color vaguely in the impression of Windrise in the afternoon sun. Was it perfect? Certainly not. It would need some refinement before it was anything to sneeze at. But it was as perfect as it was going to get, today. He was done with it. He gave the brush a quick splash through his rinse water before setting it aside, balanced precariously across the tray of watercolors. The paper pad went next to it, and both were quickly forgotten.
It was truly a lovely day, the air moderate and warm with a light breeze – classic Mondstadt weather, if unseasonably warm. Still, he couldn’t complain while he was out enjoying it, the pleasant movement of the grass and the windhill asters and a few cryo slimes bouncing in the distance. He was surprised Klee hadn’t spotted them earlier while on her rampage. She’d tired herself out well enough without it, though, and tucked herself up against him for a nap as he’d lazily painted the scenery, the sound of her breathing a comforting background noise. She lay there still, warm and soft with sleep. The remains of their picnic lay scattered around them, another casualty to the enthusiasm of a toddler, and if he looked over his shoulder, he could see Albedo sitting nearby, sketchbook in hand, the sound of his pencil against paper lulling him deeper into lethargy.
Things had been better lately. While not exactly the love of each others lives (or however the saying went), he and his husband’s friendship had deepened with time. They were comfortable. And wasn’t that all they wanted, anyway? Even he and Diluc had been getting along better lately. The redhead had played a heavy hand in planning the surprise party Kaeya wasn’t supposed to know about, and it would be an easy enough thing to play along when they made their way back to the city and their waiting friends at Angel’s Share.
He'd have his free drink, despite his brother’s grumbling, and a fun evening with those he’d come to think of as family. It was a pleasant thing to look forward to, but for now?
For now, he rather thought Klee had the right idea. A nap in the warm sun, full and sated, the promise of more fun to come. He closed his eyes, smiled. The future wouldn’t be perfect. There were still threats out there, fights to come, reasons to worry. But today, on this nice, warm, easy day, he was happy enough to just live in the moment and let that be that. No need to rush toward tomorrow; it would come soon enough.